


Ashes of a Male Child

by AnonEhouse



Series: Starvation Sleep-Deprivation Stories [4]
Category: Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, Past Child Death, Stillbirth, mummy - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-21
Updated: 2015-03-21
Packaged: 2018-03-18 22:57:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3587166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/AnonEhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony finds a disturbing relict in the mansion. Bruce helps him deal with it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ashes of a Male Child

**Author's Note:**

> The child died of unavoidable natural causes, and there are no graphic details.

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

Since the Avengers were using the mansion as headquarters Tony began examining disused rooms with an eye to gradually convert them into more usable spaces for the team. He'd got to a room he barely remembered existed beyond occasionally rattling the locked door as a child. It was deep in the middle of the old wing where there were no windows and he'd imagined adventures on rainy days in its gloomy corridors overlooked by portraits of even gloomier people. He'd killed many a dragon on this faded carpet.

He used the skeleton key Jarvis had provided, and after some reluctance, the door unlocked and creaked open in true horror movie style. He clicked the light switch, but nothing happened. The sensible thing would have been to backtrack to find a flashlight, but instead he opened his shirt to let the chest piece's light pierce the gloom. "Huh." It was a library. A very cozy looking one at that, with a stone fireplace at one end and plenty of overstuffed chairs and reading tables scattered about.

He went in, walking cautiously because there were ottomans and other bric-a-brac at random intervals, and the chest piece was only incidentally a light source. The fireplace even had a stack of wood next to it that seemed in good shape. He decided to light a little fire, glance around to make sure there wasn't anything obviously hazardous- his father's experiments had a tendency to wind up where they shouldn't- and then lock up again.

Tony laid a few sticks, checked that the flue lever was open and lit it with a ball of ancient newspaper from the basket that had been next to the sticks. The fire started well, then almost immediately backed up, sending plumes of smoke into the room. Coughing, Tony scattered the wood to let it smolder itself out, and then reached in gingerly into the just warm opening, feeling about for obstruction. "Ah." There was something on the smoke shelf, probably a bird had fallen in and been unable to get out. He grasped the hard, rubbery form and carefully removed it.

The moment he pulled the thing out of the chimney he knew it wasn't a bird. Birds don't wrap themselves in shrouds. He laid the object gently on the nearest ottoman and carefully unwrapped the smoke-browned linen. And then he just sat back on his heels for a long moment, gazing in astonishment at the mummified, smoke-cured, actually, newborn boy. He knew his family had secrets, but he'd never imagined anything like this.

Tony doubted there'd be any clues in the room, bar the body itself, so he looped the linen loosely around the boy, and took it with him after locking up the library again.

 

He wasn't a biologist, but a cursory examination of the child in the bright light of his laboratory made it obvious death had come from natural causes. The external deformities hinted at internal ones that he had no desire to examine. He did find one extremely disconcerting clue.

When he teased the linen flat, in the unfolded sections most protected from the smoke there were remnants of brightly colored embroidery. In one corner the embroidery formed words, smudged but unmistakable. 'Thomas Alva Stark'. It was exactly the same style as a cloth Maria had stitched for Tony.

"I had a brother? Older or younger, I wonder?" Tony checked the linen more thoroughly. On the opposite corner, a month and year were stitched with a wide space for a date left blank. It was the same month and year as Tony's birth. 

 

"Dr. Banner? Bruce, I've found something disturbing. I could really use your help with this. I'm in the auxiliary lab." Tony didn't like involving other people in his problems, which was part of the reason the Avengers knew Tony Stark and Iron Man as two separate people. Iron Man was invincible. He didn't have to electrocute himself at frequent intervals to keep his sorry excuse for a heart beating. He wasn't an object of pity, and Tony liked it that way just fine. But he'd reached the end of his resources, and the mystery was gnawing at him. He could of course, pay for a discreet private ceremony and lay his... brother? to rest, but he was reluctant to do that before he'd at least tried to find out if they _were_ brothers.

"Mr. Stark?" Bruce sounded slightly startled on the house phone, but not in a big, green way. "Yes, of course, I'd be glad to help in any way I can."

 

Bruce stared at the body for a long moment. Then he said, "Yes. That _is_ disturbing." He glanced at the linen. "Identical twin?"

"Or I was brought in as a substitute. Stark Industries was everything to Howard. Something like this... it would reflect badly. He considered nuclear power an essential part of our arsenal, and had hope for it as a controllable power source. If rumor got about that radiation had done this to his own son, it would have ... made things difficult."

"Hmm." Bruce gently used a pair of forceps to lift the baby's arm slightly. Tony winced. "Sorry. I was just trying to see if there was a possibility for DNA testing, but it's too thoroughly dehydrated, there won't be anything usable." He laid the forceps down. "There's no way of telling the cause of these deformities. Nature makes mistakes, too."

Tony nodded. "I don't want to treat him as a lab specimen. I'd just like to know whether he was my brother, or I'm a cuckoo brought in to fill the Stark nest."

Bruce rubbed the bridge of his nose. "If I had samples from your parents' families, I could try to give you an answer."

"The Carbonells appear to have died out in Italy, or at any rate they broke off contact with my parents so long ago I wouldn't know where to look." Tony sighed. "The only Stark I know is my cousin, Morgan."

Bruce didn't say anything, but everyone knew Morgan was a backstabbing, greedy, conscienceless worm who would cheerfully sell the story of Thomas Alva to the nearest reporter or Stark Industries rival. "You could, perhaps, offer him a free medical examination on some pretext?"

Tony agreed, "Morgan does like getting something for nothing."

 

"Um, well, that's. That's not entirely conclusive, you know. Cousins are likely to share fewer..."

"Statistically speaking though, it's almost certain that Morgan and I are unrelated," Tony said, after looking at the comparison chart. He grinned. "Well, that's one bright spot."

Bruce chuckled. "And after all, _you_ might be a Stark..."

"And Morgan a bastard? Nice thought, I'll cherish it. It doesn't matter. Howard and Maria Stark may or may not have given me genetics, but they were my mom and dad." Tony looked down at Thomas Alva. Out of decency, Tony had made a coffin from fine wood, padded and hinged like a cigar box, which was the only wood-working project he'd ever done, as a Father's Day gift for Howard. He closed the coffin. 

"So, what are you going to do with him?" Bruce asked.

"No idea. Something decent and respectful, but not likely to get back to bite Stark Industries." Tony stroked the wood lightly. It was smooth and oiled and smelled pleasantly rich. "I don't like the idea of the cremation cruise, and burial just seems wrong, after all this time. He never got to see anything, seems a pity to put him in the dark."

"I might have a suggestion?"

"I'm all ears."

 

The scenery was breathtaking. The saffron-robed monk took the coffin with appropriate reverence, and bowed. There were bells, banners, and a solemn procession. And they promised to pray for Thomas Alva Stark's soul, not because of Tony's generous donation, but because it was what they did.

"They won't spend the money on themselves," Bruce told Tony as they slowly hiked down the mountain. "I talked to the villagers. They run a little hospital, a small school, and even try to give scholarships to any promising students. They're good people."

Tony nodded. "It's a good legacy for a Stark." He looked out across the mountain and felt somehow lighter.

**Author's Note:**

> Fusion of comics blue-eyed Tony and his mansion with the movie Avengers team. In the comics the Hulk was briefly an Avenger very early on-before Steve Rogers- he actually took the Hulk's place. 
> 
> Marvel Comics has retconned Tony's origin so much I don't know what they're now considering canon. I did read a series in which Tony was apparently adopted because the true heir was severely handicapped (and also meant to allow an alien robot access to a galaxy destroying power by his genetic match-up.) Marvel, you make me feel that I cannot exceed you in weird, no matter what I do.


End file.
